Immolation
by adastrad
Summary: Hawks asks Enji to burn one of his feathers.


"Burn it."

"_What?_"

"Burn it, _please?_" Hawks tried again, holding out a blood red feather the length of Enji's palm.

Enji took it reluctantly. He didn't know why Hawks was in his office. He didn't know how Hawks had even gotten _in_. Enji would be having a _word_ with his security team.

And Hawks didn't even have the decency to stand properly in front of Enji's desk. He'd come around the other side, stopping only an arm's length from Enji's chair.

"So, are you gonna...?"

Hawks was looking at him expectantly, like Enji wasn't some ridiculous fool sitting here in a high rise office with a feather in his hand.

"Why?" Enji asked, suspicious. Hawks was a tricky one, he'd learned by now. He always had some angle or some hidden card up his sleeve. This sounded like a simple request, but it was a strange one with no clear purpose.

"C'mon, Endeavor-san, can't you just do it? How long will it take you, do you think, if you go as slow as you can? Think of it as an exercise in control if you like."

There was a wry humor in his face at the end of that and Enji didn't trust it.

_Control._

As if this insolent little whelp didn't know how well Enji wielded Hellflame. He wouldn't succumb to one of Hawks' jokes for some petty whim, especially not for one that ruined one of his own feathers. Did Hawks have no sense of self-preservation at all?

"You need these," he said and tried to return it.

Hawks didn't take it. Instead, he laughed.

"Stop being so concerned! I'm asking you to do it. Don't you think that means it's okay? My feathers regrow. I'll have a new one by tomorrow."

This upstart boy... He was infuriating in a way Enji struggled to understand. But fine. So be it. He knew he would regret this, whatever trap it held, but he had no reason to say no. He held the feather up to eye level by the shaft and lit a spark.

The effect was immediate.

Hawks gasped, a ragged shaking breath, and gripped tight at the edge of the desk. As the whiff of flame smoked through the tuft of down at the feather's base, he began to tremble. His eyes shut tight, his body sagged, and he bit down hard on one leather-gloved hand in a vain attempt to muffle moans. When the fire flared brighter as it reached the feather proper, Hawks actually let out a high-pitched, keening whine and Enji had had _enough_.

Was he somehow _getting off_ on this?

Enji smothered the flame at once.

"No!" Hawks cried out as the fire died. "Don't stop! Light it again, keep it burning!"

"If you think I'm going to put up with whatever obscene game you're trying to play here, you can think again. Get out! Be gone!"

What else could it be but that? Hawks was panting and breathless in front of him, bent double from whatever sick pleasure he'd derived from this, and Enji hadn't even touched him. Hadn't even _moved_. Hadn't even used more than the most meager hint of his quirk on a weightless thing he could hardly feel in his hand. Enji clenched his fist around the feather and grit his teeth. He _wasn't_ disappointed. He'd merely thought Hawks better than to do something so humiliating to them both.

Beside him, Hawks let out a strangled sound. "Obscene game...? It's not, I swear it's not. It's not like that at _all_."

Enji scoffed, flinty gaze trailing down Hawks' body. His _excitement_ was obvious enough. At least he blushed at that. So he actually had a sense of decorum after all. But no— Hawks was shaking his head in another denial. He pressed a palm to his forehead and patted it for emphasis.

"It's _here_," he insisted, still breathing hard. "I feel it _here_."

Enji had no clue what he was getting at and it must have shown on his face, because Hawks dug frustrated fingers into his hair and said, "Do you have any idea what it felt like when I burned up my wings for you?"

Enji nearly saw red at that. "I never asked that of you! You did it all on your own so don't stand here and act like whatever you _felt_ was _my_ fault!"

"I'm _not!_" Hawks shouted and Enji was shocked right out of his own anger. Never outside the heat of battle had he heard Hawks ever raise his voice. "And I _know_ and I'd do it again, I'd be glad to! What I'm _saying_ is it's in my _mind_. There's a mental link, don't you know?"

In Enji's tightened hold, the feather twitched of its own accord. He eased his grip in surprise.

Beside him, Hawks sighed in relief and continued, quieter now but with growing insistence, "It felt _incredible_. I can't stop _thinking_ about it. Every day, all the time – I _want_ it. I even dream about it. So please. Please... _please_, Endeavor-san. I'm begging you – I _need_ this. Just this once."

Perhaps it was the honorific that convinced him. There were few enough who bothered with it these days and to use it even when so agonized and accused... And Enji knew just how strong this young man was. To see him standing here looking for once so vulnerable and small, wanting him, begging him, _needing_ him...

Enji found he was not... unaffected.

It was still new in him, this fledgling desire to protect. There were mountains of reasons Enji should ignore it now, and every one was writ with his mistakes. Hawks, as ever, seemed to bypass all of his defenses and pierce right through to the heart.

How many people in his life had ever faced him and confessed needing him for anything? ...How many times had Enji cut that need short with his neglect?

And there was a darkness in Hawks that Enji sometimes saw, shadowed at the edges of his black-lined eyes. It was there even now, tingeing his desperation. Enji didn't think Hawks knew he'd seen it, but how could he not after he'd learned to recognize the same thing within himself?

So, Enji thought, what would be the greater sin? To leave Hawks be or let him in?

Enji stood and shoved back his chair.

Hawks seemed to take this as a sign. His wings hunched behind him and he moved to step away. Enji caught him by the forearm before he could escape, maneuvered him around and down into the now vacant seat.

Positions switched, Enji held the feather out. Hawks' lashes fluttered dark on his cheeks, he noticed. He'd gone nearly cross-eyed, so intent was his focus on the three fourths that yet remained, lips gently parted in anticipation. With that image searing into him, Enji began again.

Just as quickly as Hawks had prior, as the ember took, he began to writhe. His back arched and the feathers of his wings shook free to heap in pools at his booted feet. He seized the arms of the chair in an iron tight grasp and groaned with the effort of keeping still. With his knees splayed wide, his arousal was more obvious than ever now, but he made no move to touch himself, straining instead against a sense of ecstasy Enji couldn't hope to comprehend.

As Enji watched Hawks lose the bout to contain himself, it hit him what his earlier quip had meant. An exercise in control, he'd said. He'd been talking about himself. He'd known all along that once this started, he'd have none.

Enji glanced at the feather in his hand – there was almost nothing left now. Go as slow as you can – Hawks had said that too, and _why_ did there always have to be so many damn _layers_ to so much of what came out of his mouth? Because Enji _could_ slow it down, and did so – to the barest glimmer of his palest fire. And it _was_ difficult. No matter how small a spark, outside of himself, Hellflame only ever lived to consume and it was a greedy thing.

Hawks let out a pleased whimper as the burning ebbed.

"Oh god, _please..._ Endeavor-san... like that... _just_ like that... it's _perfect..._"

This was where Hawks got one thing wrong, if he thought Enji would relish in some sense of power or control. This wasn't about power, for Enji had used none. It wasn't about control, although perhaps in the past it might have been. But to know that, through this, Enji was successfully cleansing some hurt he hadn't known Hawks had...

Only then, at that idea, did Enji feel his own body begin to respond.

And that, perhaps, was the snare Hawks had set for him from the start – that he'd suspected Enji might enjoy this too. For seeing him like this, Enji couldn't help but wonder how improved the sight would be if he could actually make out all of Hawks' young muscles moving. If he could hold him as he rode this through. ...If Hawks would come undone with the added touch of Enji's hand...

He had yet to do so here and if Enji wanted to give Hawks that, time was running short, for flames wouldn't burn on nothing.

Slowly now, go slowly and slower still until—

With a shudder and a wordless gasp, Hawks spent himself and the last of the feather crumbled into ash.

As Enji shook the soot away, Hawks seemed to crumple too. He bowed his head into his hands, elbows on his knees. It... wasn't the reaction Enji had expected.

"What does it feel like now?" he demanded, voice gruffer than he'd meant with the concealment of his own need.

"...Nothing," Hawks answered, sounding absolutely wrecked. "It feels like nothing."

He was quiet for a frozen moment, then stood and grimaced, doubtless at the mess he'd made of himself. He didn't catch Enji's eyes. Instead, he angled his body entirely away when he said, "Sorry to take up your time."

Wrong. This was all _wrong_. Enji had... he'd thought he'd made the _right_ choice this time. This _couldn't_ have been yet another mistake when he'd done exactly as Hawks had asked!

"Hawks," he tried and Hawks turned back at that, raking his gaze up and _there_ was that smirk of his, self-assured and sly.

Enji would have bought it completely if he hadn't seen the moment it had formed on his face when, for the briefest second, it was brittle and weak. His disquiet was more effective than any ice bath.

"Well, hey, Endeavor-san, you really pulled through with that one! I've got to thank you, you know. Anything you want, just say the word."

He stepped in close, reaching toward Enji's belt, but then his arms went wide as if he were only making a general offer. The only indication he'd miscalculated, that he hadn't at first noticed there was no longer any service he could provide, was a rapid blinking of his eyes.

"No," Enji denied him as he would have anyway, still puzzling through the whiplash of Hawks' moods. One was real and one was fake but he couldn't figure out what worried at Hawks to make him put on such a front. He couldn't be so nonchalant after the fragility Enji had seen. It just didn't make _sense_.

And now, of all things, he was _laughing_.

"When did you get so selfless, huh? Well, fine, buddy, I'll take it."

Hawks retreated and with a roll of his shoulders, his wings reformed. The feathers fluttered around him almost like living things. And Enji, who had only recently begun to realize how much ache an absence could create, was forced to consider—

_"There's a mental link, don't you know?"_

—just how deeply Hawks felt the destruction of a feather.

How deeply had he felt the loss when it was almost every single one?

Enji cursed himself. He was no stranger to inflicting wounds of the mind, after all, was he? _Was he?_

"Hawks, I'm sorry."

"What...?"

"For your feather. For your wings."

"_No_, Endeavor-san, _don't—_"

"You said you'd do anything for me."

"Yeah—"

"Then accept it."

There was no one who could ever claim he was kind, and he'd rarely soothed ruffled feathers before, actual or otherwise. For the sacrifice Hawks had made for him that was obviously still weighing on his mind, Enji would offer him what comfort he could. He pumped his quirk through one hand, keeping the warmth of Hellflame snug just beneath the surface of his skin, and reached out to wrap a palm along Hawks' hip.

Hawks stared down at his hand then up at Enji, eyes already heated with renewed interest. And maybe, one day, Enji would entertain him. For now, he was heartened enough to see his eyes were clear and free from any doubt. He nudged him toward the door of the ensuite of his office.

"Now go clean yourself up, for god's sake, and after... you may stay."

"Well," Hawks said and turned to obey with a smile as sweet a poison as honey, "alright."


End file.
